


And Every Breath We Drew

by mjules



Category: Troubleshooter Inc. - Brockmann
Genre: Canon Queer Character, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 21:02:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjules/pseuds/mjules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin gets his overnight pass in rehab.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Every Breath We Drew

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freneticfloetry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freneticfloetry/gifts).



> Spoilers through All Through the Night, but mostly Force of Nature.

_Remember when I moved in you and the holy dove was moving too_

_And every breath we drew was hallelujah._

_\--Leonard Cohen, “Hallelujah”_

 

Jules bit the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting into nervous laughter.  This was not the time to joke that he looked like a junkie going into withdrawals, no matter how hard his hands were shaking, no matter how much he couldn’t stop bouncing on his heels, no matter how dry his mouth, how tight his throat.  No, standing outside a rehab facility waiting for his lover was not the time to start cracking jokes about addictions, no matter how true it felt nor how many Robin had made in the same vein.

 

Robin had been making jokes practically since he’d gone into rehab—not the first day; no, that had been a day fraught with nervous tension and shame, Robin trembling in the passenger’s seat of Jules’s car, not with withdrawal but with fear.

 

_“Are you okay, sweetie?”_

_Robin wouldn’t look at him, red-rimmed eyes behind dark sunglasses focused on his own hands.  He’d been through the medical part of rehab in the hospital; he hadn’t had a drink since that day off the coast of Florida._

_“I’m, um… God, Jules, I’m really scared.”_

_Jules took his eyes off the road just long enough to reach over and take Robin’s hand in his own.  Robin squeezed hard, but it didn’t disguise the shaking.  Jules thought as fast as he could, trying to settle on the best way to ask him.  ‘What are you afraid of?’ might come out sounding dismissive, and God, he didn’t want Robin to think he was dismissing him.  ‘Are you afraid you might not succeed?’ might make it sound like _Jules_ thought Robin wouldn’t make it, and God, he had nothing but faith in this beautiful man. _

_Robin solved his problem for him, though._

_“I’m scared that, while I’m in rehab and I can’ t see you and touch you and… and… prove how much I love you, that you’re going to come to your senses and realize I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”_

_Jules pushed his fingers between Robin’s, holding him tighter.  He was damn close to pulling the car over to the side of the road and pulling Robin into his arms to hold him properly.  They’d have time for that later.  Not a lot, but in the parking lot for the rehab facility._

_“Sweetie, there are two things wrong with that statement.  One, there isn’t enough trouble in the whole world to make me think you’re not worth it.  Two, this _is_ proving how much you love me.  You… you’re making a choice that will keep you alive so that I don’t have to lose you.”  He could hear the unspoken _again_ at the end of that, and he knew Robin could too._

Robin had stopped shaking after that, settling into a more subtle kind of nervousness, a level that was appropriate with starting an intensive rehab program.  But right now—right now, Jules was shaking as hard as Robin had been, as hard as if he was jonesing for a drink or a cigarette or—

 

“Hey, babe.” 

 

—the sound of Robin’s voice.

 

“God, you look good.”  Jules had noticed lately that there was a direct correlation between how much time he spent away from Robin and how much his brain-mouth filter deteriorated.  Robin didn’t mind, if the wide grin on his face was anything to go by.

 

“You look better than a bottle of Jack Daniels,” Robin said with a sly grin, and while that was a joke Jules could appreciate this time, he still looked nervously over Robin’s shoulder.

 

“Don’t say that too loud,” he cautioned, laughing softly.  “I don’t want them revoking your pass at the last minute.”

 

“Oh God, no.”  Robin hurried toward him as if the evil pass-revoker was chasing him down.  Jules laughed and caught Robin as the taller man practically flung himself into Jules’s arms.  “Quick, take me away before they change their minds.”

 

“What’s the rush?” Jules laughed, tilting his head back to look up at Robin, grinning so hard his face hurt.  “We’ve only got all night.”

 

“That’s the rush,” Robin answered, ducking his head so that the words brushed over Jules’s ear.  “It’s only one night.”

 

Jules shivered; he couldn’t help it.  Robin laughed, low and warm against his skin, and suddenly Jules was very much on board with the rush.

 

“You realize,” Jules murmured, unable to resist brushing his lips across Robin’s throat, and _damn_, that was sweet, feeling Robin’s pulse jump against his mouth, “that this will be the first time we’ve spent the night together.”

 

Robin sucked in a breath and pressed himself tightly against Jules’s body—just for a second, but it was long enough for Jules to feel exactly what Robin thought about _that_.

 

“Yeah, I…”  Robin cut himself off and backed away from Jules, clinging to Jules’s hand like it’s a lifeline and he’s drowning, and wow, Jules really didn’t want to think about that right now.  “Let’s go, please.”

 

The drive to Jules’s apartment was fraught with an entirely different kind of nervous tension than when Robin had been admitted to the facility.  Now, instead of shame and fear, desire rolled off Robin like waves.  He was practically vibrating with it.  Jules had planned to take advantage of their full night together, to make slow, thorough love to Robin, drawing out every touch and kiss until they couldn’t stand it anymore.  This mad need pulsing through him, begging him to pull over to the side of the road and unzip his pants for a quickie, to swallow Robin’s cock to the back of his throat and suck until his lover was sobbing with pleasure, was not on Jules’s agenda for the night.

 

At least, it hadn’t been.  He had an entire romantic dinner planned—the flowers and place settings were already on the table, as well as two candles waiting to be lit.  He had been planning to eat dessert off Robin’s skin.  Now he knew he was going to be lucky if they made it to the bedroom as an appetizer instead of having their hors d’oeuvres against the wall right inside the front door.

 

But the paparazzi who were _still_ at his condo—didn’t they ever get tired of watching him come and go?—doused that idea instantly.  Robin saw his scowl almost before he knew he was frowning.

 

“What?  What’s wrong?”

 

“I was just—”  Jules stopped, growling.  “There are windows by my front door.”

 

Robin leaned forward, craning his neck to look at the door in question.  The windows were seemingly innocuous, tall, narrow panes of frosted glass.

 

“There’s a limit to how _out_ I’m willing for us to be,” Jules explained with a chuckle.  “I’m going to have to actually get you farther into the apartment than the front door before I strip you naked and eat you alive.”

 

Robin shifted in his seat, an involuntary whimper squeaking out of his throat.  “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to walk that far.”  He gave Jules a scorching look, and suddenly Jules was the one readjusting himself.

 

Jules chuckled wryly and shook his head.  “The front seat of the car is not an acceptable alternative to the front hallway, Chadwick.”

 

Robin gave an exaggerated shiver.  “I don’t think you’ve ever called me by my last name before.  That’s hot.”  He showed his teeth in a grin that was downright predatory, and Jules looked away, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

 

“Okay.  We’re going to sit here until we can move, and then we’re going to make a run for it.  You remember where the bedroom is?  Go there first.”

 

Robin whined softly.  “You say things like that and you expect me to be able to _move_ anytime soon?”  Robin closed his eyes, and Jules recognized his posture.  He was getting into character, submersing his own personality and feelings and becoming someone else.  Jules waited, torn between intrigue and dread.  Who would Robin become?

 

Several long moments passed, and Robin finally opened his eyes.  “Shit.”

 

“Sweetie?”

 

Robin scowled at him, but then the expression was ruined when he started snickering.  “It doesn’t work.  I can’t channel a straight man when I’m sitting beside you.”

 

Jules couldn’t stop the peals of laughter.  “God, that’s a relief.”

 

Robin reached across the console and took Jules’s hand in his own.  “I never could,” he said in a whisper.  “Even when I tried really, really hard.”

 

Jules’s breath caught in his chest, filling him up with a painfully sweet pressure.  “That’s it,” he said.  “We’re going in _now._”

 

Robin was still laughing, waving cheerfully to the paparazzi as Jules dragged him through the crowd to the front door.  Several of them shouted out irreverent questions, and Jules tried not to listen.  Robin was apparently unruffled by them, and as Jules pulled him into the apartment, he heard Robin answer a question Jules hadn’t quite heard.

 

“Not yet, but I have a cunning plan!”

 

There was a ripple of laughter from the paparazzi, and Jules gave Robin a suspicious look as he closed and locked the door behind them.  “I can’t decide whether to be more worried that you have a ‘cunning plan’ or that you told the paparazzi about it.”

 

“No need to worry at all, babe,” Robin purred.  “Just tell me what we’re doing first—eating or _eating_.”  He emphasized his double meaning with a gentle nibble to Jules’s ear. 

 

“You always did like my ears,” Jules laughed breathlessly.  Robin’s hand slid up his back and stopped between his shoulder blades as Robin followed up the nibble with a quick lick across the cartilage.

 

“I always did like every single thing about you.” 

 

Jules felt the moment when Robin’s posture changed, when it went from aggressive and playful to desperate and vulnerable.  Robin’s taller frame folded against him, melting into him, and Jules nuzzled into Robin’s neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin.

 

“I spent two years wishing you’d meant that lick in the bar,” Jules whispered, and Robin chuckled weakly.  Jules thought it sounded wet, and that thought was confirmed a moment later when he felt damp warmth against his skin where Robin had pressed his face.

 

“I did, babe,” Robin sighed.  “I so did.  I just didn’t know it yet.”

 

Kissing Robin never got old.  Jules was pretty sure that he could kiss Robin every second of every day for the rest of his life, and his only problem would be trying to find a way that they could still talk to each other, because he wouldn’t be able to stand not knowing what Robin was thinking.

 

“You taste like heaven,” he whispered when Robin finally broke away from him, breathing hard.

 

“You taste like… perfection.”  Robin’s breath—clean and sweet—stuttered across Jules’s mouth and Jules breathed him in.

 

“I’ve decided,” Jules murmured, “that I want dessert first.”

 

“Oh thank God.”

 

Jules wasn’t the only one trembling when they undressed each other in his bedroom.  Robin’s hands shook so hard that he fumbled Jules’s shirt buttons and his belt buckle.

 

“Why,” Robin laughed through clenched teeth, “didn’t you wear a T-shirt and jeans?  Or something with elastic?”

 

“I was trying to impress my boyfriend,” Jules chuckled right about the time Robin finally got his pants down.

 

Robin took a step back and dragged a deliberate gaze down Jules’s body.

 

“Consider him impressed.”

 

Robin cupped Jules’s cock and gently rubbed his palm up the length, closing his fingers around the head in a devastating twist.  Jules’s knees went weak and he caught Robin’s shoulders in his hands, pulling him toward the bed.

 

They managed to get the rest of their clothes off before Jules crawled up onto the mattress, scooting backward across the soft quilt and pulling Robin with him.  A master at planning ahead, Jules already had condoms and lube out on the nightstand, and his body was already aching with anticipation.  Nothing on earth was sweeter than Robin’s bare flesh against his.

 

“Babe,” Robin said, and the hesitation in his voice stopped Jules even as he was reaching for the condom.  “I… um.  I don’t know how to say this, but….”

 

Jules dropped the condoms and cupped Robin’s face in both hands, pushing his fingers back through Robin’s hair.  “Sweetie, it’s okay.  Whatever you need—”

 

“I want you inside me.”  It all rushed out of him on one breath, and Jules felt his world narrow to a single point—the blue of Robin’s eyes staring into his.  “I’ve never—I mean, it’s just—I want—please, Jules.  I’m yours.  I want to _be_ yours.”

 

“Fuck.”  It was all Jules could say. 

 

Robin bit his lip, and Jules fought back a whimper.  How was this man so goddamn beautiful?  “Is that a good ‘fuck’ or a bad ‘fuck’?”  Robin asked, trying for a smile.  “I mean, I understand if you… No, you know what, if you don’t want to, I don’t understand you at all.”  He smiled wanly.  “But I’d respect it.”

 

“Sweetie—God.”  Jules leaned up and kissed him, deep and messy, full of all the need he couldn’t find words for.  “I could never _not_ want you.  Yes, God.  Yes.”

 

Robin’s smile was quick and bright, sun breaking through clouds, and Jules rolled them so that he was pressing Robin’s taller, slender frame into the mattress.  Robin’s legs opened instinctively, cradling Jules’s hips, and Jules couldn’t help the reflexive thrust of his hips that dragged their cocks together.  Robin hissed and canted his hips upward, fingers digging into Jules’s back.

 

“Please,” he whispered.  “Please, Jules.”

 

Jules was never in his entire life going to get tired of hearing Robin say his name, especially not in that tone of voice—full of fire and longing and just the right amount of demand.  “All right—let me—”

 

“I want it to hurt.”

 

“No, sweetie.”  Jules stopped long enough to kiss the tip of Robin’s nose, to drag the soft caress down to his mouth.  He kept the kiss soft and light, not allowing Robin to deepen it, one hand smoothing over Robin’s jaw.  “No, you don’t.  And even if you did—don’t you think we’ve had enough hurt?”

 

Robin’s eyes darted to the side, unable to hold Jules’s gaze.  “I—I’m sorry.”  He winced.  “Just forget I said that.  I just… I want to feel you forever, you know?”

 

Jules laughed, groaning softly when it jostled them together.  “Trust me, _babe_,” he said, nipping playfully at Robin’s chin.  “You’ll feel me.  Even with preparation.”

 

A sly grin—a leer, really—took over Robin’s mouth, and he wriggled underneath Jules, rubbing their cocks more firmly together.  “Promise?”

 

“Oh yeah.”

 

Robin’s eyes fluttered shut, but not before Jules saw utter bliss in them.  “Score,” he breathed, smiling, and Jules hid his face in Robin’s neck to muffle his own laughter.

 

That smile, that look of loving ecstasy, never left Robin’s face, not through careful, eternal minutes of Jules’s fingers opening him up, not through Jules softly telling him to relax and just breathe, and not even when Jules pushed inside, as slowly as he could despite his body begging him to just sink right in.

 

Even when Robin gasped and arched, even when he said “_Oh_,” in a tone that told Jules he hadn’t been lying about never doing this before, his eyes were still shining, his mouth was still curved up at the corners.

 

Finally as deeply inside Robin as he could possibly get, Jules had to stop for a moment and rest his forehead against Robin’s shoulder, gasping for breath as his body shuddered in pleasure so sharp he couldn’t breathe.

 

“Babe,” Robin gasped, and Jules felt the tremor in Robin’s hand as it rested against his hair.  “_Jules._”

 

Jules lifted his head, his stomach twisting instantly at the tears standing in Robin’s eyes.  “Are you okay? God, sweetie, did I—”

 

Robin was shaking his head.  “I’m fine,” he whispered.  “I’m perfect.  I just… God, Jules.  It’s… you’re… I’ve never felt this good sober.”

 

Jules blinked, long and slow, his heart thudding against his ribcage until he thought Robin could probably hear it.  He dropped his head again, his breath bouncing off Robin’s superheated skin, and clutched at Robin’s waist. 

 

He couldn’t say anything to that.  What could he say?  His hips moved without his conscious permission, and Robin’s gasp made him do it again.

 

“I love you,” Jules whispered.  It was the only thing in his mind, the only thing in his heart.  “God, I love you.”

 

Robin clutched at him, legs wrapping around him, fingers urging him on.  “Please, Jules.  Please.  Love me.”

 

And Jules did.  _God, did he ever._

 

They didn’t last long—the whole day had been prolonged, painful foreplay for Jules, who had woken that morning with a smile on his face, their sleepover the first thing on his mind.  He could only imagine what it had been for Robin, who had no patience at all.

 

They lay together long after they’d come, cooling semen between their bellies gluing them together, Jules reluctant to pull out of Robin even after he began to soften.  When separation became inevitable, Robin made a disappointed mewling noise and opened his eyes, smiling up at Jules.

 

“That,” he said, his voice a hoarse reminder of how loudly he’d called Jules’s name there at the end, “was even more amazing than I thought it would be.”  He kissed Jules, slow and warm and loving, and Jules kissed him back.

 

“So was that your cunning plan?” Jules asked a few moments later as Robin reached down to strip the condom off of him, hands gentle on his oversensitive skin.

 

Robin laughed, throwing his head back, and Jules took the condom away from him, afraid he was going to make a mess with the damn thing.  Robin hadn’t stopped laughing by the time he threw the condom away and came back to bed with a damp cloth to clean them both.  It wasn’t until Jules had crawled back onto the bed and wrapped his arms around Robin, pulling him in and cuddling him against his chest, that the giddy laughter finally faded.  Even then, Jules could still feel Robin smiling against his skin.

 

“Well,” Robin drawled, pressing his face into Jules’s neck and sighing with contentment, “you’ll just have to read the tabloids tomorrow to find out, I guess.”

 

Jules snorted, jostling Robin against him in the most pleasant punishment ever devised.  “As if I’d ever believe anything the tabloids have to say about you.”

 

Robin pushed himself up on his arms, looking down into Jules’s face.  His serious expression was betrayed by the sparkle in his eyes, and Jules found he couldn’t keep a smile from his own mouth.

 

“They’re all saying I’m crazy in love with you,” he whispered.  “You can believe them about that.”

 

Jules reached up and kissed him, feeling as if his skin was practically glowing, lit up from the inside.  “I’d rather just believe you.”

 

“I promise,” Robin said, settling back against him.  “You’ll always be able to.”

 

“I know, sweetie.”  Jules kissed his temple, unable to stop touching him.  “I know.”

 

And he did.


End file.
